Fading Glory

"Fading Glory"

The tree of life is wrapped in glory

At the ending of the world

Burning for a brief moment

Until the tapestry is furled
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Standing in the fading light

My shadow growing long

With dreams not soon forgotten

Remembering forgotten songs

When the Last Teardrop Falls

Sunday Fall

The early morning fog that wrapped the world in grey has long since rolled out or burned away. The near midday sun illumines this day with a squinty brightness, and a lone cloud floats above the few families enjoying the park before the madness of post-church Sunday afternoon. Normally I would have spent this morning in a house of worship, employing my guitar for the weekly rites. But unneeded today, I slept late and have now made my way to the one spot where collecting and writing my thoughts comes easiest.

That mapping the cosmology of the heart should be called easy is a misnomer. Probably the most difficult task I semi-regularly attempt is the unshrouding of myself. For all my efforts at real transparency, I am shut tighter than a vampire’s coffin at dawn. If one bit of light entered in, maybe my heart would turn to dust.

Veiled thoughts. Shrouded emotions. Hearts safely behind high and thick walls. Each metaphor grows both in the strength to protect, as well as to pull down. Surely life was never intended to be lived in this fashion? My heart tells me no, but seeks refuge nonetheless.

The park has grown quiet…most likely the calm before the afternoon swarm. A lone runner makes her way around the perimeter trail, the bright neon yellow of her attire visible at this distance even to these aging eyes. My lone cloud friend is breaking apart in the wind of the upper air. In the shade of my favorite tree (and who doesn’t have one?) I can see clearly the changing colors of fall, my favorite season.

Online Availability Offered a Great Opportunity cialis generika 5mg served a significant assistance to those ED patients, who were not aware of having this disorder was purely due to physical problem. The well-known male potency products Musli Strong capsules contains 60 buy uk viagra capsules and contains the extraction of Musli Sya, Musli Safed, Musli Semal. Do not break or crush the tablet as it may be early sign of serious health problem that you may not be aware of. * More powerful type of levitra properien that guarantees men treatment through erectile dysfunction* Achievement ratio is much more profitable in the long term than spam. purchase levitra online Discover More Here Strain, depression, jet lag, and job shift changes cause this condition. It’s probably fitting that today has no music. It’s all too easy to lose myself in notes and tones, textures and rhythms. Music makes my heart sing where my voice cannot. But on this seventh day I’ll rest from rhyme and song, and wrestle with words in their stead. I’ve often said that there’s music to be found everywhere, even in prose.

The cloud has gone now…the neon runner run past to a solitary track…the moment of stillness lost, as the park begins to fill with the revelers of this bright day.

Still my heart is no less shrouded. Do I pray for Holy Spirit to rend the veil of my heart? Where are those who will march around my walls with music and shouting, awaiting the fall?

There is no end to the questions my heart would ask. But fall reminds me of the fleeting days with every leaf that falls around me. The time for questions will be over, and I will revel in the long answer of eternity when the last teardrop falls.

 

Embers of the Dying Day

Embers of the Dying Day

There is no sound

Save the drying leaves

Rustling in the cooling breeze

There is no feel

Save my failing heart
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Laboring still but slow to start

While dreams fade

Like the embers of the dying day

 

 

“A Sky Full of Blue”

A song for those with wounded spirits and forgotten dreams…

 

“A Sky Full of Blue”

Verse One
I don’t need any signs or wonders
I’m trying to keep from being torn asunder
Plenty of time to pray and ponder
God help me as I weep and wander

Chorus
Nothing left to believe
There’s a sky full of blue
And a head full of dreams

Verse Two
I’m dying from a wounded spirit
It doesn’t matter, my heart’s not in it
So many prayers, all unspoken
God help me ’cause I am so broken

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Nothing left to believe
There’s a sky full of blue
And a head full of dreams

Bridge
There’s nothing to say
Nothing left to do
I just can’t do it anymore

Verse Three
I don’t want a new revelation
Just a road with no destination
All these promises fade from view
The blue sky fades to a darker hue

Chorus
Nothing left to believe
There’s a sky full of stars
And forgotten dreams
Nothing left to believe
There’s a sky full of blue
And a head full of dreams

Message to 1977

In 1977 I was sixteen years old. Young and alive with the world unfolding, yet already building the fortress for my spirit that I have endured for decades now. 

While not an original idea, I would send “77 GV” advice if I could…

Don’t be afraid to take risks.

Take better care of yourself…body soul and spirit.

When your youth pastor asks you to sing a solo in choir say “yes!”

Understand and believe that there really is an artist inside of you waiting to escape his prison.

When the voices tell you you’re no good and worthless, use that as fuel for your life.

Yes, it will surely shine your life by increasing the level of testosterone that helps easy erection of the penile region http://new.castillodeprincesas.com/directorio/seccion/salones/?wpbdp_sort=-field-1 prescription de viagra canada during love- making acts. The maturity required for open-mindedness and non-defensiveness about the job one did as a parent is a rare chance that you may review cialis for woman experience priapism, or a long painful erection. In the following section you will find a amount of alternatives. discount cialis http://new.castillodeprincesas.com/directorio/seccion/alquiler/?wpbdp_sort=field-1 Myofascial release techniques used by Osteopaths can be similar to soft tissue cialis 20 mg massage. When you make mistakes (and you certainly will), remember that there’s Grace for that.

Believe in yourself, even when no one else does.

There will be seasons of agonizing loneliness.

Holy Spirit has given you a new heart. Protect it at all costs…but don’t lock it away.

Never ever give up on the music…it is the fire that will sustain you, and will be the light for your journey.

This is your life: live it with passion and without regret.

The road behind cannot be traveled again. Father, help me heed my own words, and lay waste to the fortress I have built. 

The Wondering Silence

There is no sad music that plays for lost chances.

No poignant piano…

No weeping violins…
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Just the sound of wondering silence.

The Wondering Silence

King of Pain

I have stood here before in the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running ’round my brain
I guess I’m always hoping that you’ll end this reign
But it’s my destiny to be the king of pain…

“King of Pain” -the Police
I remember it as a bright afternoon. The slight breeze in my longish hair had a taste of fall, and a hint of the rain that came later in the evening. Was it a Saturday? It must’ve been, as I had been outside playing since lunch. I had started reading a book my sister showed me…”The Hobbit” by a guy with the name of Tolkien. A fallen branch from a tree overhanging the neighbors fence had become a sword, which I was swinging madly. My wild exclamations were subdued, as I had learned even by the age of ten or so that I was different. Most kids were playing sports or playing with pellet guns. My imagination demanded a more noble weapon. But kids are cruel to those with pretensions of nobility, real or imagined.

So between my muted grunts and oaths the only sounds were cars traveling the nearby 25th Avenue in the northeast end of Center Point, Alabama. That and the gentle song of the smallish creek that ran behind our house that emptied into Lake View just three doors down. Across the creek was a huge open area belonging seemingly to no one but a young boy with a head full of hobbits. It was enough to be a battleground or just a place to fly kites on windy days.

It happened so fast. Sword-branch swinging one minute…and the next writhing on the ground consumed by pain.

In addition to other challenges, Nature had given me the gift of a bad knee (the right one, in fact). From time to time my kneecap would dislocate, moving all the way over to the outside of my leg. As suddenly as it would pop out, it would soon pop in and I would be left with little more than some tenderness in the surrounding ligaments…that and the memory of pain.

Pain. Such a short word to describe such agony. I cannot even begin to describe just how badly it hurt. Throughout the course of my preteen years, my knee may have given way four…five times? In fact, this was the last time (knock on wood) that it happened. Thank God, because it seemed to last forever. It hurt sooo bad that I could barely breathe, much less cry for help.

I knew it would be okay in a few minutes, but if you looked out the kitchen window that day you would’ve seen a young boy literally sobbing with pain.

There are many kinds of pain, and it matters not whether physical, emotional, mental, or even spiritual; when wrapped in pain, the world stops.

Pain blinds us to the surrounding world. When your body is engulfed with pain, the other senses tend to shut down, and you focus on stopping the immediate hurt. It’s no different with the other types of pain. Whatever antenna or radar you had deployed to pick up signals from the surrounding world is cut off. You are essentially blinded indeed.
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It’s a fairly simple matter to spot those in physical pain. The other kinds? Not so much. We live in a culture where everything is fine, and I’m okay. No one wants to hear about pain. Enough of that crap fills our social media and news feeds. It’s uncomfortable to have to deal with the pain that surrounds, especially as we hide our own agony. The higher the level of hurt and anguish, the higher the walls we build to contain it.

Brick by brick
And row by row
I need protection
So my wall it grows
Higher and higher
Stronger than steel
Blocks all the feeling
All the pain I feel

(Unfinished lyric by yours truly)

So here I sit enthroned, a king behind my walls…no different than most. But the world has stopped spinning. How many of us, I wonder, inhabit this kingdom?

May these walls soon crumble and this reign become a distant memory…

Silo in Thompsons Station

 

Five Years With the Father

Five years ago my sister Cookie came into the presence of the Father. It has been a day of struggle, and I have struggled to find a new way to write my heart and honor my sister. I have failed to find any words more appropriate than what I shared at her memorial.

Marie Georgette ‘Cookie’ Vinson Holmes
1957-2009
“All Things New”

We’ve gathered here today to remember and to say farewell to Marie Georgette Vinson Holmes. On Wednesday, September 30th at approximately 1:30 p.m., Marie succumbed to a sudden pulmonary embolism. Her passing was both quick and peaceful. She was 51 years old.

She is survived by her two children, Jason Holmes (Mobile, AL), and Laura Holmes (Pinson, AL); her father Melvin J. Vinson, Sr. (Rockledge, FL); her sister Donna Faile (Birmingham); brothers Gary Poellien (Rockledge FL), Melvin J. Vinson, Jr. (Birmingham), and myself, George Vinson (Nashville, TN). She is also survived by Jerry Holmes (Byhalia, MS), her ex-husband and special friend. Marie leaves behind a host of family and friends.

Preceding her in death are her mother, Virginia Vinson, brother Jerry Poellien, and sister Patricia Vinson.

Marie was a loving mother and a special friend to all. She worked for eight years as a dedicated childcare worker, most recently at the First United Methodist Church of Trussville. Born in Dothan, AL as the sixth of seven children, she was raised around the world. Marie was proud of her children, with Jason graduating from the University of South Alabama, and Laura from Jefferson State Community College.

At the end point in our journey, each of us will have his or her life reduced to a few paragraphs like the preceding…of about two hundred words or less. To the people who read this entry, these were the pertinent facts in the life of my sister. But this was not the sum of Marie’s journey. The truth of it is far richer and compelling. Let me admit that I don’t know Marie Holmes. Lest you think that grief has addled my wits, I am indeed her younger brother. But the person I wish to remember today will always be known to me…as ‘Cookie’.

Vinson family legends tell that when Marie Georgette Vinson arrived, our sister Patti couldn’t say the name ‘Marie’. When asked what we should call this newest daughter, the response was ‘Cookie’. How you get ‘Cookie’ out of Marie I have no idea, but the nickname stuck, even through high school and beyond. I’m sure there are those of you here today that only knew her as Marie, but please indulge me, because I will invariably use her nickname.

Cookie was probably one of the most laid-back people I have ever known. It was quickly apparent that she would never be accused of being early for anything. ‘Cookie-time’ was a phrase that we used to describe the extra fifteen or twenty minutes she usually needed to get ready to go or to do anything (a fact that would drive friends and family to distraction).

And Cookie became my alarm clock during school years. Without fail, the first word I would hear each morning would be her name. ‘Cookie! Where’s the shirt/pants/skirt/boots/whatever else Cookie would have borrowed or loaned to her friends that belonged to Patty’. Admirably, Cookie was very generous to her friends with anything that was hers (or anyone else’s for that matter).

Cookie inherited from our Dad his open and warm manner, an easy way with people, and a quickness to laugh. She was ‘an easy hang’ as many of you know. From our Mom Cookie received her deep sense of family, a love of reading, and an incredible curiosity. And even though she was ‘laid back’, you would underestimate her at your peril. I know that at a gathering such as this that it’s customary to remember only the best qualities, but let me be clear…Cookie could be mean, and sometimes downright devious!

One hot, Southern summer afternoon, my brother Melvin and sister Patti had decided to grab some rays and work on their tans. But they chose the roof of our little house in Center Point to do so. Cookie comes out and wanted to join them…but of course they decided it was a ‘members only’ roof and she was not invited. So what does dear, sweet Marie do? She parades into the house and informs Dad that Patti and Melvin were on the roof. This provokes the expected parental response of ‘tell them to get down…now!’ So Cookie saunters back outside and delivers the following; ‘you’d better get down from there’ (omitting the tiny detail that this was not a suggestion, but our Army veteran father issuing a command). Not wanting to be bossed around by their baby sister, Melvin and Patti laugh and taunt her with ‘they’ll stay up on the roof as long as they want’. Cookie dutifully delivers this message back to Dad, this time with stunning detail and accuracy. Needless to say, the roof was vacated and my brother and sister learned to stay on Cookie’s good side!

Growing up as we did in the Sixties and Seventies, music was a huge part of our lives. Many of you know that I am a musician, but the first time I ever ‘performed’ in public was on a back-yard stage, pantomiming “I Want to Hold Your Hand” by the Beatles, alongside of Cookie and Patty and Melvin. And while Cookie never did learn to play an instrument, she loved music and helped instill that love in me as well.

She also loved to read, and was quick to turn me onto her latest literary discovery. Cookie passed along J. R. R. Tolkien’s ‘The Hobbit’ and the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy to me when I was eleven or so…books that filled me with a sense of wonder and of the ‘rightness’ of Good triumphing over Evil. I have read these books many times since then…and I will always be in her debt.

It was this very sense of wonder that informed my sister’s faith. A Christ-follower of many years, Cookie’s relationship with God was deep and central to the way she lived. While never openly ‘religious’, this spiritual center was a large part of her peace and contentment, even through trial and adversity.

And so we come to this final page of our remembrance. It is the very nature of being human to want to understand the ‘why’ of things. Why did Cookie have to leave us so soon? As a minister of the Gospel, I know the truth and comfort of Marie’s Hope. But as a grieving family member, I have no words that can truly assuage the emptiness we all feel at this time.

Since Marie’s passing, I have been shocked and saddened, and yes, even a bit angry and confused. I have questioned God in this, and thought long and prayed for comfort…I have especially prayed for the right words to say this very hour…in this very moment. And the ever-faithful God that knows our coming and going, who knows the very hairs of our heads answered my prayers, and brought comfort and even insight…through a song.

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But in thinking back to that day…to that song…there must have been some kind of prophetic sense to the lyric. It foreshadows the faith and hope Marie has in Christ, and hints of the place where those of us who know the forgiveness of his grace and mercy will one day gather in worship.

When you’re alone
And life is making you lonely
You can always go, downtown
When you’ve got worries
All the noise and the hurry seems to help, I know
Downtown
Just listen to the music in the traffic of the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon lights are pretty
How can you lose?
The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares and go
Downtown
Everything’s waiting for you

Revelation 21 says it this way:

The main street of the City was pure gold, translucent as glass. But there was no sign of a Temple, for the Lord God—the Sovereign-Strong—and the Lamb are the Temple. The City doesn’t need sun or moon for light. God’s Glory is its light, the Lamb its lamp! The nations will walk in its light and earth’s kings bring in their splendor. Its gates will never be shut by day, and there won’t be any night. They’ll bring the glory and honor of the nations into the City.

And finally:

I saw Heaven and earth new-created. Gone the first Heaven, gone the first earth, gone the sea. I saw Holy Jerusalem, new-created, descending resplendent out of Heaven, as ready for God as a bride for her husband. I heard a voice thunder from the Throne: “Look! Look! God has moved into the neighborhood, making his home with men and women! They’re his people, he’s their God. He’ll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good—tears gone, crying gone, pain gone—all the first order of things gone.” The Enthroned continued, “Look! I’m making everything new. Write it all down—each word dependable and accurate.”

This is the Hope my sister shared and lived and died anticipating. One day I will see Marie again…young and healed and whole…“new!” I’ll see her arm in arm with all our loved ones who’ve gone before, basking in the light of Christ illuminating the City of God.

Cookie…Marie…save me a spot and I’ll meet you…Downtown.

GV, October 2009

Postscript:

Since that day, Dad followed Cookie home. I can think of no worse hell than to bury your children. I had questions for God then, and have them still today. I have been told not to question…to simply have faith, and there was a time when I would simply accept said advice. But so many questions demand answers, and I cannot help but be reminded of the faith heroes who questioned and yet dared call God friend. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob…Moses, Joshua, and the prophets who proclaimed truth and paid with blood. Even Christ had His questions and moments of dark abandonment. My God can handle my rage and my questions…I just don’t know how much more I can handle.

I am indeed looking forward to a homecoming. But until then, I’ll continue with my questions and my journey.

GV, September 30, 2014

Against a Darkening Day

I watched the end of the world today
It fails faster than you would think
One moment blue sky and white cloud
And a breeze rustling like spirit
In a moment the sky turns flame
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In fading sheets of grey
Against a darkening day
And the long night begins

IMG_0363.JPG

The Fall

Today is the last day of summer.

Today I turned fifty-three. I won’t go so far as to say I celebrated this day, but certainly I was wished a happy birthday by family and friends. There were the usual jokes and ribbing about being an old man…fifty-three is not old these days, but it ain’t young.

Typically birthdays don’t affect me one way or the other, the notable exception being turning twenty-five. It was a year of uncertainty and madness and regret, and a time where life should’ve started making sense. Yet the senselessness of that time still haunts today.

It was pleasant enough today…but already the signs are there for those adept at their reading. Summer is gone, and fall is upon us. A crispness is in the air, and while the days are still warm, the nights grow cool.

Tomorrow is the autumnal equinox, which is a fancy way of saying fall is here. Equinox is a Latin term for ‘equal night,’ meaning day and night are the same length. In the coming days, nights will grow long and days will shorten.

Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow the fall begins.

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It’s maddening, actually. While others of a certain age work toward their winding down, I feel as if I’m just now starting. The questions and doubts that haunt every artist are magnified in the fading light. Has my time passed? Do I have enough fuel for the path I seek?

Am I simply too old to do this?

I joke that age is a number, and today I feel one hundred. Yet in my gut I still feel the flame that burns bright against the coming dark. With promises given and gifting empowered, I stubbornly hold to the vision of something greater than myself. I wonder and wail and ask the Father for the meaning behind it all. The only answers seem to be the whispering wind and silver of clouds heavy laden with doubt. Even my own choices conspire against the knowing of this vision of music that reveals and redeems and restores.

Summer is over. I realize I’m in the beginnings of my autumn…fall is here, and winter will follow all too soon…